To Own A Malfoy
by Operation Milkdud
Summary: Draco Malfoy becomes Hermione Granger's personal slave. What could be better? DM.HG
1. The End of the War

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended._

**Au/N: I've read an awful lot of stories about Hermione Granger becoming Draco Malfoy's slave through some bizarre twist of events. So I decided to throw my own extra special, signature twist in with the others. I thought, "What if it were reversed?" and tada! We have…Malfoy serving his favorite bushy-haired enemy. Of course, there will be language, violence, and steamy sex in here somewhere. You have been warned…**

_**Chapter One. The End of the War**_

****Hermione Granger

Never had I seen such a tragedy. Thousands of people were killed in the span of five long, treacherous years. The bloody war between Voldemort and my best friend, Harry Potter, seemed to go on forever. I watched helplessly as the lives of my loved ones were brutally ripped from them. It would be a long time before it fully dawned on me that my parents, my baby brother, Arthur Weasley, Viktor Krum, and countless others were gone forever.

Ron wasn't the same with the loss of his father. The boy I'd loved slowly changed until he was dark, quiet, and frail. I missed the old Ron terribly, but to ask him to change for my sake in the middle of a war would be too selfish, so I stood by and watched as my friend fell apart. Harry changed too, even more so than I had thought he would. He also missed Mr. Weasley, but I think it was Ginny's sadness at losing her father that really got to him.

Eventually, the war ended. With the help of Ron and I, Harry defeated Voldemort—but the victory came with a price. Harry received another horrible scar that ran from just under his left ear all the way down to the front of his abdomen. He could barely move without feeling great pain, and so he and Ron came to live with me in my parents' old house, where Ron and I could take care of him.

But the brightest, happiest miracle imaginable emerged from that suffocating darkness. Thousands of Death Eaters were revealed after Voldemort's death, having lost almost all power. Many were sent to Azkaban, given the Dementor's kiss, or killed on sight. Those that were members of an elite class, however, like the Malfoys, were given a choice: spend a lifetime in Azkaban or become slaves to the very people they'd tried to wipe out.

And so, Draco Malfoy came to be my slave.

-:-

"Ron! Harry! I'm home!" I yelled, carrying the brown paper bag in both arms as I kicked the front door shut behind me. As soon as I was hidden from the view of prying muggles, I levitated the bag to the kitchen counter and began removing its contents.

"Oi! Did you get the oranges?" Ron asked as he zoomed down the stairs; if one thing about him had not changed, it was his enormous appetite.

"Yes. And the onions. And the shrimp--" I said as Ron pulled the items out one by one as I rattled them off my list. I paused as I saw something questionable, but which I'd bought anyway. Raising an eyebrow, I asked, "Ron?"

"Hmm?" he asked, already peeling an orange and stuffing it into his mouth.

"Why do we need…squirt…cheese?" I questioned, holding up the spray can and not quite sure what he planned to do with shrimp and 'squeeze' cheese.

"Ah! Thank you, 'Mione!" he said, grabbing all the food and rushing up the stairs to his room. I sighed as I reached into the bag and pulled out the newly-refilled bottle of Harry's pain medication; I crossed the kitchen to the sink, opening the bottle. Turning on the faucet, I moved a cup beneath it with one hand and opened the window above the sink with the other. It was a beautiful day; sun streamed blindingly through the window, warming my face and arms. I closed my eyes. The only sounds were the running of water, a radio off in the distance, and…an owl.

My eyes snapped open. I looked out the window, but saw nothing. Suddenly, cold water began to spill over the lid of the cup in my hand; I had overfilled it immensely during my daydream. I turned off the faucet and tipped water out of the glass, still looking out the window for the owl.

Then it hit me. Literally.

"HEDWIG!" I screamed and dropped the glass into the sink; it shattered loudly. I fell back onto the floor, completely surprised. The large, white bird was flapping her wings in my face, and I held my arms up to shield myself, should her claws catch hold of anything by accident. "Get off this instant!" I demanded. Hedwig hooted loudly and settled on the kitchen counter, feathers lying all over my newly swept floor.

"Hermione? What's…Hedwig!" I heard Harry exclaim. I stood up, brushing myself off. Bloody owls. I looked up to see Harry coming down the steps carefully, his cane in one hand. I could see the pain on his face as he took each step.

"She…just flew in for a visit…" I grumbled, beginning to pick up feathers.

"So I heard," Harry laughed, reaching Hedwig and petting her gently on the head. "Oh! You've got a letter, 'Mione!"

"Hmm?" I hadn't quite gotten used to sharing Hedwig with Harry and Ron, since Ron's owl had disappeared in the war. "Who's it from?" I asked, reaching for it as Harry took it from Hedwig.

"It says…Ministry of Magic. Raculia Minicent. Urgent business." Harry looked just as surprised as I was. Raculia Minicent was the new Minister of magic, since the man with a former claim to the title was also lost in the war. I'd never received anything from Minicent, and quite unexpectedly, three months after the war was over, I was getting a message concerning "urgent business".

Harry raised an eyebrow as he turned the letter over to me; excitedly, I tore open the sealed envelope and jerked out the letter. I read it quickly at first, and then slowly, to be sure I wasn't imagining things. I could not believe my good luck.

"What is it?" Harry asked. "Read it!"

"Yeah, read it, whatever it is…" Ron demanded, stuffing cheese-covered shrimp into his mouth with a ferocious hunger.

It took me a moment, but I did eventually remember how to use intelligent speech.

"'Dear Miss Granger, it is with great pleasure that I inform you of a recent circumstance which has come to my attention. Several of my fellow workers attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with you some time ago. They were able to supply me with enough evidence to confirm that one, a certain Draco Malfoy, son of the late Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and co-conspirator in the deaths of over 1,130,034 muggles and magic folk, was also a terror to you in school.

"'As you are well aware, we at the Ministry of Magic attempt to station past Death Eaters in homes where they will serve those they caused the most pain. And you, as far as I can see, Miss Granger, certainly are the one person that Draco Malfoy deserves to serve for the rest of his miserable life. He has very little remaining magical capabilities with which to harm you, so have no fear of resistance. If you wish to employ Mr. Malfoy at this time, please send post immediately with your reply. Thank you, signed, Mr. Raculia Minicent!'"

I let out a gasp as I read the information out loud. Harry's jaw dropped to the floor and cheese-covered shrimp fell out of Ron's mouth. It was completely silent for a moment; it was just as well, because I almost could not come to terms with the fact that Draco Malfoy, murderer and my childhood tormentor, could either serve me for the rest of his life…or go to Azkaban for eternity. I grinned at the thought that no matter what I chose, he would still suffer. But somehow I thought that having the precious ferret serve his hated enemy and be treated as the dirt beneath my fingernails was a far better punishment.

"Well…when's he comin'? My sheets haven't been washed in ages!" Ron blurted, filling his mouth with more food. I shook my head as Ron left the room again. Harry leaned forward as far as his injury would allow and caught my attention.

"Are you sure you want to do this? He could still be dangerous. Never, ever trust someone who--"

"Trust him? Who said anything about trusting him? This is merely employing him to serve his most hated enemy…other than you, Harry dear…for the rest of his sick, twisted, worthless existence. What could go wrong?" I asked slyly, eyeing the letter once quickly before jotting my reply down on the line on the bottom. Signing my name, I rolled the letter up and attached it to Hedwig's leg. With a hoot, she was out the window with more than a letter; in her claws she held the only thing that could possibly make me happy at a time like this.

"What did you say?" Harry asked as I turned to clean up the broken glass in the sink.

"Oh! I almost forgot, Harry…" I said, temporarily ignoring him to hand him his pill and a new glass of water. He grinned at me sarcastically, and I smiled back. "Just make sure you take it this time. Anyway, what do you think I said, Harry? That boy…creature…whatever he is, killed our friends…our family…people we loved. Malfoy could live with Azkaban…he spent time preparing for that in case he was caught. But the one thing he _never_ prepared for was serving a pathetic, frail Mudblood like me. And that, Harry, is the one thing I'm going to make _sure_ he _can't _handle."

Little did I know that in the end…_I _would be the one who couldn't handle Draco Malfoy.

**End Chapter**

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	2. Hate is Such a Strong Word

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended._

**Au/N: Thanks to my reviewers. You all get innumerable amounts of cookies! And because you reviewed, I am updating the next day. See how nice I can be? ; )**

**_Chapter Two. "Hate" is Such a Strong Word_**

Hermione Granger

"It'll be great, Hermione! You'll see. They call it, 'ponfoo'!"

"It's called 'fondue' Ronald! And I don't like the idea of you cooking at all!" I'd said, but oh no…Ron _had_ to prove me wrong. And so I ended up cleaning cheese off the walls, counters, and floors. I began to wonder where my slave was.

And then, much to my surprise, it was barely two days after I sent my reply to Minicent that I received a knock on my door. I was busy at the moment, scraping melted-on gunk out of the pan that Ron had used for his little science experiment. But I felt so excited at the thought that my special 'gift' had arrived that I dropped everything immediately to run to the door.

I threw it open gleefully, and what I saw there sent an immediate smile to my face…though, if I were any kind of decent person, it shouldn't have.

Draco Malfoy stood tall and proud beside whom I could only guess was Raculia Minicent. Malfoy was gangly and frightfully thin; he was even more pale that usual, and where heavy, metal shackles curled around his wrists, there were many painful-looking bruises and scars on his skin. Dark circles rimmed his piercing eyes and his usually well-kempt hair was a matted mass of filthy tangles. His clothes, a pair of torn, ragged gray pants and a gray t-shirt, hung off him as though they were three sizes too large. I felt ecstatic at seeing him in such a miserable state, but when I saw the unbroken pride in his eyes and the stubbornness still in his face, my immense happiness began to fade away.

"Miss Granger?" a mousy, tiny voice asked. I'd barely taken any notice of the short, squat man beside Malfoy. I acknowledged the shorter man with a smile and nod; Malfoy turned away, looking as though he was about to vomit.

"I am Hermione Granger…and you are?"

"I am Raculia Minicent, Minister of Magic, at your service! As you are aware, I am sure, I sent you a letter a few days ago concerning your newfound…for lack of a better word, possession of this…man," Minicent said uneasily, motioning to Malfoy beside him. "I'll…just need you to sign this form stating that you did receive the…er…package in question and that it is the person whom I claim him to be."

"Oh…that's definitely Malfoy. Same pathetic, smug ass," I said, bending down, conjuring a pen, and scribbling my name down on the dotted line.

"Yeah, and let me catch you looking at my ass once, Granger," Malfoy threatened. Before I could reply, Minicent jerked a small, white box out of his pocket and pressed the round, red button on top of it. Malfoy immediately began to tear at his neck in pain. He screamed loudly, and before whatever was causing him pain stopped, he'd torn a new, long scratch at his pale, thin neck.

"Oh, please tell me I get one of those!" I gasped hopefully, open-mouthed.

"Yes, Miss Granger, you most certainly do." Minicent dropped the white box into my outstretched hand. "Is everything to your liking, miss?" Minicent asked, tucking the form I'd signed into his robes.

"Let me think…" I began. Just to test it out, I pressed the little red button once more. Malfoy screamed again and tore at his neck, obviously in agonizing pain. Finally, he straightened up, blood dripping down his neck. He narrowed his piercing black eyes at me, a look of pure hatred on his pathetic face. I grinned. "Oh yes. It's all very, very much to my liking, I assure you."

"Good, then! If you have any questions, you can find me in my office any time from Monday to Friday! Good day to you, miss." Minicent said before turning on his heel and evaporating into thin air. I turned my attentions immediately back to Malfoy.

"You haven't got your wand on you, do you?" I asked, a smile still lingering on my face.

Malfoy looked at me unpleasantly and lifted up both arms, still clasped together at the wrists with the shackles.

"Frisk me," he said, smiling sarcastically at me.

"I'd…rather not, Malfoy. Crabs jump ten feet, you know." I smiled wider and turned, opening the door wider so he could come inside. "Come on in, Malfoy! You need to get out of those clothes…" I said, realizing how dirty and disgusting he was.

"Easy, Granger. I just made it in the door. Try to hold off jumping my bones for five minutes," he said evilly. I closed the door behind him and watched as he took in the sight of my home…or at least, the last home of my parents, people he'd killed. "Mm. Just as I remember it."

I lost myself. My hand and arm flew up long before I had the chance to stop them, and my palm collided loudly with Malfoy's cheek. He grunted with shock more than pain; he opened his mouth to readjust his jaw.

"Careful, Mudblood. We wouldn't want you to get hurt now, would we?"

"While you are in _my_ house, you will address me as Miss Granger. Or Master, whichever you prefer. And you will _not_ speak…_period_…to Harry or Ron. If you do, I won't think twice about cutting out your lying tongue," I said as hostilely as possible. It sounded very convincing, even to me. So convincing, as a matter of fact, that Malfoy also lost his head. He turned on me and raised his shackles above me, preparing to slam them down on top of me. But before his fists could collide with my body, a loud thump and a flash of white light sent him spiraling across the room.

He screamed as his body made painful contact with the wall. As his body fell from the wall to the ground, I could see the cracks the collision had left there. It didn't take him long before he stood up, though his lip was bleeding and he limped as he walked back to me.

"But, as I can see, I really don't have anything to fear. You can't even touch me, Malfoy, much less hurt me. Just how much do you think your threats mean now?" I demanded, rising up on my tiptoes, my face inches from his own. He looked down at me, his eyes searching through mine. Our noses almost touched, and I could feel his breath on my face. Suddenly, he brought his hands up to my face, and I waited patiently for the blinding light and the loud crash that was sure to come.

But it didn't. I felt Malfoy's surprisingly warm hands on my jaw, pulling my face up to his own. And then, before I even though to scream, his lips were on mine. He opened his mouth and breathed into me; he was, if I was being fair, a _very_ good kisser. I tried not to close my eyes and get swept away in the moment; I hadn't been kissed like that in the entirety of my life. But my eyelids began to close slowly, and then they finally fluttered shut. I opened my own mouth and felt Malfoy's tongue slipping inside. He tasted spectacular.

Then, much too soon, he pulled away from me. As his entrancing lips left mine, I began to realize what I had done. I'd just kissed Draco Malfoy, Death Eater, murderer of my parents and friends. And I'd _liked_ it. I looked up to tell him off, but I immediately thought better of it when I saw the disgusted way he was wiping his mouth.

"You're wrong, _Miss_ Granger. I can touch you all I want…" he said, coming nearer to me, his breath on me again. His fingers stuck a few inches down inside my pants and pulled me flush against him. "…just not in anger."

Once again, he pushed me away, disgust on his face, leaving me breathless and concerned for my own well being. If I was enjoying any part of this, something was not right.

"So…where's my room?" he asked, startling me out of my daydream. I blinked and mumbled something about him taking a bath first. "What was that? I didn't quite catch that," he said, a smirk on his face.

"I said, you'll have to take a bath first, because you smell. And you will put on new clothes before you start work." I crossed the room and entered the kitchen, where I indicated the cheesy mess stuck to every surface of the room. Malfoy saw it and sneered.

"What the hell were you doing? Oh wait…I get it. You and the Weasel got it on in the kitchen, and he just couldn't wait long enough to stuff his face! Makes for a good mess. Maybe you should have said something. Or maybe you couldn't, because your mouth was so full of his—"

"That's QUITE enough, Malfoy. Now get upstairs, take off your clothes, get into the shower, and take a damn bath before I hex you!" I ordered, pointing up the stairs in the direction of the bathroom. He looked somewhat impressed. Turning away, he stalked up the steps, very slowly, just to annoy me. Then, when he'd reached the top of the stairs, he turned and looked at me.

"You know, you could join me…I've been without a woman's company ever since sixth year."

Now, knowing the 'bad boy' player that Malfoy was, my younger self would have laughed hysterically at his confession of being without sex for six years…but something then, when I looked at him, completely convinced me that he was telling the truth. But that didn't change the fact that I valued my life too much to get an STD and die.

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" I screamed, pointing once again to the bathroom. Malfoy shrugged, looking as though he didn't mind at all, and began walking down the upstairs hallway.

"Not like I fucking wanted _your_ company, Mudblood…" he mumbled as he disappeared around the corner.

I was so incredibly angry that I kicked the very first thing I saw, which just happened to be a very large, very hard storage cabinet.

"Bloody hell!" I screamed, clutching my foot in pain.

"What's all this racket? First I hear screaming, then more screaming, then the hot water in my bathroom just cuts off--" Ron began, but I interrupted him.

"That's because Malfoy's here…and he's taking a shower in the other bathroom," I said through gritted teeth. Ron's eyes grew wide.

"You mean…as in…_Malfoy? The_ Draco Malfoy?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Oh, bugger off and ask him for his autograph, Ronald!" I shouted, limping to the sofa in the living room.

I suppose he would have, too, if he hadn't seen the fresh oranges just waiting for him on the one clean spot of the kitchen counter. And as I prepared to give Harry another one of his pills, I began to think of all the wonderfully horrendous things I would make Malfoy do as my slave. Several lovely possibilities crossed my mind, but the best I would save for last…or, at least…until dinnertime.

**End of Chapter**

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	3. A Nice, Quiet Dinner

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended._

**Au/N: Thanks to my reviewers. I lush you. Like, so, so much. Beta: Unbeautifully-Broken. **

**_Chapter Three. A Nice, Quiet Dinner_**

Hermione Granger

Draco Malfoy had never prepared a meal in his life. He was actually attempting to cook something, and he burned the water that was boiling on the stove. I know he didn't screw it up on purpose, because I threatened him with my new little white box of pain. But, when the carrots in the water turned to pure mush, I had to take over. I decided that, since it was his first day, it would be his first—and only—break.

I did, however, force him to watch me use the oven and the non-stick cooking spray, so that the next time he had to use them, he wouldn't overdo it. He seemed very interested at how hot the oven would get, and I promised him I'd let him test it one day.

"You can get inside with a thermometer, and I'll turn it up full-blast until it breaks…or until you die—whichever happens first," I'd said, and was quite proud of myself. Then, I'd brought out a frying pan and put it on the stove. The mixture of butter and olive oil inside popped once, loudly, and it frightened me so much that I jumped back. My body collided with Malfoy's, who had been hovering dangerously close to me. To my surprise, he caught me and held me against him a fraction of a second longer than I thought he should. But he did let me go as soon as he felt me tense against him, and I saw him wipe his hands off out of the corner of my eye.

When dinner was ready, I called Harry and Ron down to the small dining room. Harry had obviously been informed about Malfoy's presence by Ron, because when he saw my new slave, he was not a bit shocked; on the contrary, he was ecstatically grinning from ear to ear.

I told Draco to fill the plates, and he did so, one at a time. Harry nodded as politely as he could when it was his turn, but it was still a stiff, cold gesture. Ron gave Draco a dirty look, but Draco overlooked it and eventually sat down in the last chair at the table.

"What's he doing?" Ron asked me, as though Draco wasn't in the room. I looked over to Draco, who was sitting quietly and filling his plate with spaghetti, meatballs, and toasted bread.

"It looks like he's eating, Ronald. Something you're very familiar with…" I grimaced, remembering his last experiment with cheese.

"But aren't servants supposed to eat…you know…with the dogs?" Ron asked sweetly, placing special emphasis on the word 'servants'.

Before I could reach for my wand, Draco had jumped up and grabbed Ron's neck, squeezing it tightly. Apparently, the enchantment that kept him from touching me in anger did not apply to Ron…but hopefully, since Harry was injured, it did apply to him.

I reached into my pocket and gripped the small, white box in my fist. I jerked it out and pressed the red button, my heart pumping madly in my chest. Draco had been doing well; he'd been calm, docile, and quiet ever since going upstairs for his shower hours ago. His silence was probably due to the fact that he couldn't figure out how the hell I'd been able to resist his advances. But out of the blue, he'd turned into a dangerous, vengeful, frightening man…the man I most definitely was afraid of.

Draco howled in pain as some unseen force caused him great anguish. He tore at his neck again, and when the attack died away, more scratches were left on his skin. He shook his head and glared down at his plate, serene and normal-looking once again. Strangely, it was not him that I was angry with.

"Ron…" I said through gritted teeth. Ron looked over at me with a broad grin on his face, obviously expecting me to thank him. However, when he saw my expression, his pride shattered into fear for his life. "As long as he obeys the rules, I expect you to do the very same. _If_ he steps out of line, _then_ you have my permission to say whatever you wish to him. But _then_, and _only_ then, is it acceptable. Do I make myself clear, Ronald?"

His jaw dropped as though I'd slapped him; he looked as though he was going to speak, but then he seemed to think better of it. He closed his mouth, nodded, turned his gaze to his plate, and began engulfing his food. Harry looked at me with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Clearly, he thought I'd gone mad. But as I turned to look at Draco, I saw an expression very much like Harry's. He was surprised that I'd defended him. Come to think of it, so was I.

Then, only a few minutes later, Harry dropped a meatball on the floor, and a terrible thing happened. He seemed to momentarily forget his condition, even as Ron began to reach down to pick up the scrap for him. As Harry bent down, I saw his face contort horribly. He froze, pain and shock filling his eyes. Draco turned to look at him, and within seconds, his curiosity turned to complete and smug satisfaction.

"Well, well, well. It seems the 'boy who lucked out' has the worst battle scars of us all. So tell me, Harry, how it feels…to be crippled?" Draco asked evilly, his words dripping with icy cruelty. Harry was trying to straighten up; he grabbed onto the corner of the table and carefully straightened his back, so that the scar running across his abdomen wasn't stretched too quickly. A few moments later, he was breathing normally; he wiped away tears from his eyes.

Ron and I stared, horrified, at Malfoy. He'd just insulted my best friend, called him a cripple, humiliated him…and, in the end, it was my fault that he'd done it, because since I'd defended him, he thought I'd always be on _his_ side. Well, that was where he was utterly wrong.

"Malfoy. Up. Now," I demanded, rising from the table. He looked at me strangely, but stood anyway. Ron and Harry looked at me just as curiously, but they seemed to understand that this time, I would not come to the ferret's rescue. "Come with me," I said as compellingly as I thought possible.

I left the room and began to walk to the living room, but I realized there was no dividing wall between the living room and the dining room, so Ron and Harry would still hear our conversation. So, I changed my mind and headed up the stairs. It would be much more effective if I could corner him in a room with a door. Heading up to the spare bedroom that was now Draco's, I turned only once to make sure he followed me. He did…closely, I noticed.

"My room? What's wrong with yours? I'm sure your bed's bigger…" he said suggestively as I ushered him inside and closed the door behind us.

"Like I'd ever take _you_ into _my_ bedroom, Malfoy," I said, my anger boiling inside me. "I need to talk to you. Now. And we won't have any interruptions this time."

"That's good. I don't like interruptions. Messes with the flow of…things…you know?" He said, sitting down and relaxing on the bed.

I rolled my eyes and crossed the room so that I was standing directly in front of his bed. He had no choice but to look at me. Once he saw the way I was standing, with my arms crossed and a scowl firmly set in place, he sighed, realizing he wasn't going to get me into his bed yet again.

"Well, get on with it, Granger. I haven't got all day, you know," he said, waving his hand unenthusiastically at me.

"You…you…ungrateful little bastard! I've brought you…into my home…I've given you clothes and your own room…you've barely even worked at all…and you make fun of my friends like you're some kind of almighty God! Yes, Harry is…different…"

"…crippled?" he offered, beaming.

"Well…yes…but you have absolutely no right whatsoever to ridicule him in such a cruel, evil manner! Just who do you think you are?" I demanded; the volume of my voice was slowly rising and becoming more high-pitched. I stomped my foot in my anger and clenched my fists to keep from hitting him. He looked at me, amused, and stood, crossing the room to me. I didn't like the fact that I had to look up to see his face when he approached me; it made me seem smaller and less frightening. He looked down at me with penetrating black eyes, as smug and conceited as ever.

"Who am I? You mean you don't know who I am? I'm the man all over the Daily Prophet. I'm the man who gave the orders to have thousands of people killed. I'm the man who had…_has_…so much power that even the Dark Lord _himself_ couldn't defeat me. And now, I'm the man who's living with a worthless, know-it-all Mudblood, in this pathetic little house that she can't leave, because it's the last thing she has left of her dead parents." As he spoke, he inched closer and closer to me until his lower body was pressed against mine. He'd also backed me farther towards the wall, until my back pressed into it so hard that it began to ache. But moving was nearly impossible.

His words hurt me because I knew they were true. I couldn't leave the house because I'd grown up there, and my mother and father had loved it. To leave it would be to admit their defeat, their death. I simply could not do it. But I would _not_ give in to the man who'd killed them. I would sooner eat cheese-covered shrimp and dance naked while Dobby the house elf squirted ketchup on me.

"That…may be true. But in case you haven't noticed," I said, pushing up against him and thinking I felt a certain hardness in him where I shouldn't have, "you are _my slave_. You take orders from _me_ now. And if you thought the Dark Lord was someone to be afraid of, then you'd do best to back out of this 'deal' now and go back to Azkaban, because I can assure you that I can be a _hell_ of a lot worse than Voldemort _ever_ was."

I got my point across. Or, at least, I think I did. It was hard to tell, because I'd no sooner gotten the words out of my mouth when Malfoy's lips crashed into mine again.

**End Chapter**

Cliffhanger!

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	4. Broken

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended._

**Au/N: It seems I have told you all a lie! I promised to give you all shout outs in the last chapter, and I never did! Please forgive me. To make amends, I shall do it now! Thanks to: waddlethepenguin, lds-sunshinegrl, luvHaru7, DracosPunkBabe, breezie, SelfHatred, dee023, mackenzie, Landi McClellan, kakashisninjadogs, Lucifer Mae, urlastremedy, derecho87, and kiwiskigirl! I apologize for my little screw-up; hopefully, it won't happen again!**

**_WARNING: _There will be EXTREMELY adult themes in this chapter. However, this chapter is NOT key in the reading of this story, so if you skip it, you will not really miss anything…it's just a little something to spice it up.**

**_Chapter Four. Broken_**

_Wake up to a sunny day_

_Not a cloud up in the sky_

_And then it starts to rain…_

I still remember that day.

It was beautiful, sunny outside, and not a cloud in sight. You could see for miles, even in the usually smoggy atmosphere of England, where I'd lived with my parents.

It was summertime, and I'd just graduated from Hogwarts. I felt a prideful sense of accomplishment, since I'd graduated with high honors, was the valedictorian, and my parents never stopped bragging about me to their clients. As soon as a patient would sit down in the chair to have their teeth cleaned, my mother would talk non-stop about her "brilliant, wonderful little girl" who'd grown up to be "a lady that any mother would be proud to call her own."

Harry and Ron were also happy for me, but they were still concerned with the war, which I couldn't blame them for. It got consistently worse until I told my parents to take friends with them on their way to work, in case anyone might attack them.

But then…just when Harry, Ron and I were celebrating (we'd just found another Horcrux) I came home to my parents' house to find them sprawled out on the living room floor. My mother held my baby brother in her arms, and she protected him even in death. Her auspices had failed, however; my brother had died along with her. There was no blood in sight, but their faces displayed anguish and pain. I fell to my knees, my arms crossed over my stomach, rocking back and forth. I remember screaming, tearing at my hair, crying…and I remember McGonagall rushing in, along with Harry, Ron, Lupin, Tonks and Moody, to wrench me away from the scene.

_My defenses hit the ground_

_And they shatter all around_

_So open and exposed…_

Oh, I fought back. I kicked at them, bit them, screamed at the top of my lungs; it took almost all of them to haul me outside, away from the gruesome scene. As soon as I was out of the room, the fight left me, and I crumpled into Ron's arms.

_But I found strength in the struggle_

_Face to face with my troubles_

_When you're broken_

_In a million little pieces_

_And you're trying_

_But you can't hold on anymore  
Every tear falls down for a reason  
Don't you stop believing in yourself_

_When you're broken_

I ended up spending the next few, torturous weeks with Ron's family. It wasn't long after that, though, that Mr. Weasley was killed, and Ron fell into a deep state of shock. I tried to comfort him, since I knew what he was going through…but somehow, I couldn't get through to him.

Ginny tried to help me and her brother at the same time, even when she was in pain. She told me she knew how I felt, and that she'd always be there for me, no matter what happened. She said that in the end, I would come out stronger and wiser, and I would become a different, better person because of everything. At the time, I couldn't see it…but eventually, I noticed that I appreciated life more…and that even my shattered soul was beautiful even as I was picking up the pieces.

_Little girl, don't be so blue  
I know what you're going through_

_Don't let it beat you up…_

_Hitting walls and getting scars_

_Only makes you who you are  
Only makes you who you are…_

_No matter how much your heart is aching_

_There is beauty in the breaking!_

A few weeks later, Ron and Harry came to live with me. Harry couldn't bear to live at the Burrow; he'd see a depressed, lonely Ginny too often. Ron couldn't remain at the Burrow either, because it was full of memories of his father. Harry and Ron had never been inside my house, so there were no memories to remind them of any good times. It was a wonderful idea at first, but then I began to realize that Harry needed a lot of medical attention, and he often needed help up and down stairs, getting to the bathroom, and getting dressed—everyday things. He was often frustrated, angry, and brusque. He wasn't the Harry I knew, but I loved him just the same.

And then, somehow, I ended up in the arms of Draco Malfoy, in a room with a locked door and a bed, where no one was going to interrupt us anytime soon. My desire to be needed was filled, in a way, because Harry needed me for physical support and Ron needed me for emotional support. But Malfoy…he needed me for a purpose that had remained unbeknownst to me for quite some time. Being a virgin, I was excited…but I felt it was far too soon after my family's death to do pretty much anything with him…especially him. It was just…wrong. I felt worse and worse every time he touched me. I took a deep breath and made a decision.

_When you're broken_

_In a million little pieces_

_And you're trying_

_But you can't hold on anymore  
Every tear falls down for a reason  
Don't you stop believing in yourself_

_When you're broken_

_Better days are gonna find you once again  
Every piece will find its place…_

_When you're broken_

_When you're broken…_

"Draco, stop. Please, stop. I can't do this now. Not with you."

He tensed; I could feel it under my arms. His mouth stopped sucking at my neck; his hands stopped unbuttoning my shirt. He pulled away and looked at me, entirely shocked. I suppose he had never been turned down before, especially during foreplay.

"Why?" he asked quickly, but I saw his features soften for a moment as he understood. "Oh…that." He looked disappointed.

"Yes…that." I shifted, removing my arms from around him. He stepped back to put more distance between us. "I'm sorry," I said, hoping I hadn't upset him. _Wait. What the hell, Hermione. You can't actually be concerned with his feelings! He fucking killed your parents! And you're here making out with him! What the hell is wrong with you? _I thought, and with every passing second, I began to feel like a dirty, betraying whore. I'd just trashed my parents' memories by nearly sleeping with their killer. Could I be any lower?

I supposed it didn't matter anymore.

"So…does this mean 'not now' or…never?" Draco asked, crossing his arms and looking directly into my eyes. My lips and skin still tingled from his touch.

"It means…it means…" I didn't want to say 'not now,' but I didn't want to say 'never' either. 'Not now' would mean tomorrow was a possibility. But never meant…well, never. Not that I cared…it was Malfoy. What could he possibly possess that would entice me to be with him? I'd made it this long without anything serious happening…and if things ever did get serious, I could always send him back to Minicent. Couldn't I?

He saw the way I was struggling with a decision. He sighed and took my hands in his, his expression exhausted and…nervous. It amazed me how human he seemed, since it was impossible that he could feel anything remotely human at all; after all, he'd killed far too many people and probably laughed while he'd done it.

He walked me toward the bed and I began to pull back.

"Relax…we're just going to sit and talk," he promised. I believed him, feeling like a complete moron as I sat down on the bed beside him.

For a moment, he couldn't look at me. He stared at my hands, at his hands, at his feet…at anything other than my face. But finally, after what seemed like forever, he took a deep breath and gazed up at me.

"Granger…Hermione," he corrected himself, "I…I never killed…I mean, I did kill people, but…well, what I'm trying to say is…that…" he paused, swallowed, let out a great sigh, and spoke very quickly. "Hermione, I did not kill your family. I came to your house late one night in the summer, and I saw them…they were eating dinner and feeding your little brother. I acquired an invisibility cloak, thanks to Voldemort, and I stood there, in the dining room, watching them eat. They never noticed me, but if they did, I'm still not sure I would have been able to kill them."

It knocked the air out of me. I believed him for a moment, but doubt quickly replaced all other thoughts in my mind. Then, doubt turned to anger, anger to suspicion, and finally, I became paranoid that he was making it all up to get me into bed.

"Stop it," I begged quietly, standing up to leave the room.

"No, wait! I'm telling you the truth. I didn't do it! I swear to you, I didn't!" he said, sounding desperate. Tears began to well up in my eyes. A few spilled down my cheeks. I blinked, keeping my back to him, and wiped the tears away. I kept my hand firmly on the doorknob. I unlocked it.

"Hermione! Don't…you don't understand…" I felt him approach me and place his hand on my shoulder. Anger boiled beneath my skin, and I whipped around, my temper gone from me.

"_You_! You never cease to amaze me! Every time I think you're getting better, a little easier to put up with, you go and fuck it all up! What do you think this was? Do you think I want you _that_ bad? Do you think that lying and making up some insane story is gonna get you in my pants? NO! I was vulnerable, alone, and tired, and you just happened to come along and feel differently about me than Harry and Ron, and yes, I _lost_ myself in it…but if you think that it will ever happen again, then you are terribly mistaken!"

I leaned forward and prodded him backward with my finger. He looked shocked and backed up until the back of his legs collided with the bed and he fell onto it. He sat on the edge, looking up at me, so close to me, yet again. I felt the tears coming back, but instead of letting him see them, I chose to keep yelling at him instead.

"You don't know what it's like…to come_ home_…to _your_ house…and find the people that _loved_ you more than anyone else lying dead on the floor! You don't know what it's like to see your baby brother die before he even takes his _first steps_! And don't try to tell me that you're sorry, you lying, twisted, _evil_ piece of shit! I did you a favor, you know, letting you come into _my_ house! I saved you from Azkaban, because some part of me still thought…you—you didn't _deserve_ to suffer there, that maybe…"

It became harder for me to speak. My vision was blurry and my breathing ragged. All my bottled-up rage and frustration was coming out, and every word that I spoke liberated me.

"I thought…you could still be changed. But then you feed me this bullshit, and all for what? For _sex_! And I bet you lied in the beginning too! I bet you've had loads of sex since your sixth year, raping women and then torturing them for fun! Is that what you were gonna do to me? Were you going to kill me and leave me here like you left my parents?"

I couldn't stop the tears. They came, full force, pouring down my face. Malfoy just stared at me, just stared, his mouth wide open. It took him a while before he could speak.

"I didn't kill your parents, I swear on my life! And I never forced a woman to do anything! And I would never kill you, Hermione, I—"

"Swear on your life? What good is your life? It's completely worthless! Do you have any idea what you've done? How many families you've ripped apart, how many hearts you've shattered into a million pieces? Do you have ANY idea?" He didn't answer me. An uncontrollable urge to hit him crossed over me, and my hands collided with his face. I punched him, slapped him, scratched at his face, screamed at him, cursed at him, and kicked him until he bled. But he never raised a hand to stop me, and he never said a word.

"Why?" I choked out, barely hitting him. I was suddenly very, very tired. My throat was dry from screaming and my hands hurt from hitting Malfoy so hard. I was completely out of breath, and I before I knew it, he pulled me against him, his arms wrapped around me.

I knew he was hurting; blood poured out of his nose, his lips were split, his eyes were black and blue, and his eyebrow had a deep cut across it. But he pulled me against him and held me there, tightly. I felt him rest his head against the side of mine; my head rested against his chest.

I fell asleep, exhausted, sobbing into none other than Draco Malfoy.

Other than the fact that I knew I felt much better, I also knew that I was irrevocably smitten with the man who held me all through the night, not moving until the first rays of the sun spread the light across his bruised face.

_When you're broken_

_In a million little pieces_

_And you're trying_

_But you can't hold on anymore  
Every tear falls down for a reason  
Don't you stop believing in yourself_

_When you're broken_

**End Chapter**

I always wanted her to beat the living hell out of him.

Review!_  
_


	5. Hermione's Clicky Thing

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended._

**Au/N: I had quite a few people ask me the name of the song in the last chapter. It was called "Broken" by Lindsey Haun and was featured on the movie "Broken Bridges." Also, thanks for all the reviews, guys! I adore them to no end.**

**_Chapter Five. Hermione's Clicky Thing_**

Hermione Granger

I woke up at last, resting on a bed, the sunlight coming in through the blinds. I rolled over and pulled the soft quilt over my head, snuggling deeper into the warmth. It was only then that I realized someone was beside me in bed.

"OH MY GOD!" I screamed, jumping out of bed and checking to be sure I wasn't naked. I couldn't remember drinking. As Draco Malfoy sat up, his face bruised and bleeding, I remembered the events of the previous night. At first the anger returned and I wanted to hit him again, but I noticed how carefully he must have laid me in bed and tucked me in, since he hadn't awakened me. And, there was, after all, obviously something going on between us. Lastly, he looked as though he'd already had a bit of a run-in with the Whomping Willow.

"Good morning to you, too…" he grumbled, sitting up and wincing as he touched his lip gently. When he spoke, he reopened the wound on his upper lip and it began to bleed into his hands.

"Oh, I'm so, so sorry! Wait there…I'll be right back!" I promised, running to the door, throwing it open, and rushing down the hall to the bathroom with the medicine cabinet. I grabbed peroxide, bandages, and gauze, barely pausing to catch my breath. It didn't occur to me that I was actually eager to make Malfoy feel better until I was sitting on the bed beside him, pressing the gauze against the nozzle of the peroxide bottle, and tipping it over to moisten the gauze.

"Ouch! That stings!" Malfoy said nastily as I dabbed at the long, bloody scratches on his face. He winced and recoiled from my touch many times, and I always sighed and put more peroxide on the gauze.

"Stop being such a baby. We both know you've felt worse." I picked up two bandages and stretched one across the cut in his brow and another across the bridge of his swollen nose. When he realized I'd finished, he let out a great breath of air.

"I hate it when people take care of me," he said as I stood up to put the medicines on the nightstand. Sitting back down beside him and looking into his swollen eyes, I could tell he didn't really mean it.

"Have you ever had anyone take care of you before?"

He didn't respond.

"I'll take that as a 'no.'" I turned my attention to my hands, which were resting on my lap. It was silent for a few moments, but he cleared his throat before long and forced me to look up at him before he would speak.

"So…about last night—"

"Oh, do you forgive me? I'm so terribly sorry! I was just…angry and…" It dawned on me what I was saying. My apology turned to a flying array of daggers in Malfoy's general direction. "…and…I had a very good reason to, as you are well aware. You did murder my parents, you are my slave, and you deserve whatever I did to you last night and far worse. Now…where's my clicky thing…" I said, searching around the room for my little white box with the big red button.

I reached in my pocket and felt it there. A grin spread across my face. I pulled it out of my pocket and prepared to push the button. Not for any particular reason…just because I could.

"Don't!" he begged, looking at the white box like he would surely die if I pressed the button.

"Oh? And why shouldn't I? What on earth could be a good enough reason for me to put this down? How do I know that you didn't…touch me or something last night? Hmm?" I said suspiciously. He looked horrified at the thought.

"I told you last night, I've never touched a woman without her consent. And…I…you…pressed it last night. Five times. While you were asleep. You rolled over and it went off. Please, Hermione. Put it down…" he begged, eyeing me with such a sadness that I felt forced to comply.

Slowly, the white box dropped to my side. He sighed and closed his eyes, probably thanking God. A thought occurred to me that I had to have Malfoy verify. A small, infinitesimal part of me wanted him to explain how he could not have killed my parents. Because I remembered them being very much gone…and him being very much the reason.

"Why did you say…what you said…last night? And did you mean any of it? And if you meant it…why did you wait to tell me? Why didn't you tell me when you first came here?" The questions just flowed out of me, and with each one, I could see his icy block of confidence melting away. I began to doubt him again, and I prepared myself to ignore his puppy-dog eyes when he begged me to put down that white box again.

"I said it…because it's the truth. I didn't tell you when I first came because you were too busy torturing me to listen. And I did mean all of it…but not to get you to sleep with me and not to make you like me, even. I just wanted to, because I'm--"

"Because you're such a _good person_," I mocked. He looked hurt, but I remembered who this was, and I did regret saying what I said.

"No, 'Mione…" he said, and I knew this was going to get freaky when he called me by my nickname. He'd never done it before; strangely, it made me blush. "It's because…"

"…go on….?" I pushed; he'd been silent for a few moments and the tension was beginning to irk me.

He blinked and looked at me with none of the normal emotions that usually described him. He was not arrogant, confident, or sadistic. His eyes were full of a sorrow I'd never seen, not even in the eyes of Harry or Ron. But I also noticed him fidgeting nervously, and a faint blush began to creep into his cheeks. Seeing this, I became even more impatient.

"Tell me! Before I'm too old to hear you, please!" I demanded; I vaguely realized that he was sliding closer to me and that my fingers were twisting the quilt into a knotted mess.

"I'm…falling for you, 'Mione," he said, not looking at me.

I'd been expecting something off-the-wall, but this was too much. So, I did what any normal, sane person would do.

I fainted.

**End Chapter**

Short and sweet, kids. Review!


	6. On Fire

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended._

**Au/N: I had no idea you would like this as much as you did! It makes me happy. Song in this chapter is "On Fire" by Switchfoot. Read on.**

_**Chapter Six. On Fire**_

Hermione Granger

I woke up for the second time to see Draco's face. He was fanning me gently, looking slightly worried. But as soon as he saw my eyes open, he straightened up and stared down at me coldly.

"Weak knees, huh?" he said, sounding disgusted. I was shocked; not very long ago he'd confessed to loving me. This was preposterous, how quickly he could turn his emotions on and off. I envied him.

"No!" I shouted, standing up much too fast and feeling dizzy. He offered me his hand to steady myself with, but I ignored it, and walked slowly to the door.

"Wait!" he said suddenly, rushing to my side. I stopped, sighing, and looked at him. He froze, shuffling his feet and staring at the carpet.

"Ugh!" I grunted, tired of his games. I threw open the door and left the room in a hurry, rushing down the stairs. Harry and Ron were in the den, eating cereal and watching some Lifetime movie. Ron quickly flipped it to pro wrestling when he saw me coming. But then, Malfoy came rushing after me. Ron and Harry's mouths dropped open as they put two and two together.

"Hermione…did you…_all_ night? In…_his_ room?" Ron asked, dumbfounded. Cereal spilled out of his mouth and onto my clean couch. Harry stared with wide eyes at Draco and me as we stood side by side, nervous and trying to explain. Then Malfoy had a cocky streak and blurted out something random that didn't help matters at all.

"We don't owe_ you_ any explanation, Potter. We'll do what we want, where we want, and for as long as we want. You have no say in it, so fuck off."

I wheeled around, my jaw on the floor, and smacked Malfoy as hard as I could across the face. He nearly fell over; he held his face tenderly, his jaw set. Apparently, I'd hit him on a bruise left over from last night. _Oops_, I thought.

I turned back to Harry and Ron, an angry expression on my face. They looked at me as though they didn't know me.

"Ron! Harry! You can't possible think I'd ever—_ever_—sleep with that piece of shit! How _could_ you? What the hell! Don't you know me at all?" I said, my anger dissolving into bitter resentment. Tears spilled down my face. Harry's face fell. Malfoy tried to put his hand on my shoulder, but I shook him off. Ron looked terrified.

"Hermione…just tell us what happened! We won't judge you!" Harry promised. Malfoy grumbled beside me, but I elbowed him hard between the ribs. He moaned in pain as Ron laughed his bloody ass off.

"But you already have, Harry…" I observed sadly, crossing the room to the front door. "You already have." Without another word to any of them, I rushed out of the house, slamming the door behind me.

I decided I'd take a walk.

It was raining outside. It had been sunny just a few minutes ago, but I guessed the weather was magically linked to my mood. Without a coat or an umbrella, I walked on, the sidewalks becoming slippery. I loved walking in the rain, because passersby could not see the tumult of tears rushing down my face.

_They tell you where you need to go_

_They tell you when you need to leave_

_They tell you what you need to know_

_They tell you who you need to be_

_Everything inside you knows_

_There's more than what you've heard_

_There's so much more than empty conversations_

_Filled with empty words _

There was so much more to Malfoy than I'd thought. He was a complex individual with thoughts and feelings; he was not merely a thorn in my side, sent to kill and maim the masses, sent by Voldemort. He felt something for me…but I couldn't tell what. He was either telling the truth about loving me because he couldn't keep it to himself…or, he was lying…but for what reason, I could not begin to imagine.

It could've been any number of things, but somehow, I felt that he wasn't making it up. If he wanted to kill me, he would've done it already. He was a dark, twisted, son of a bitch, who'd been taught numerous things by Voldemort. We both knew he did not need a wand to cause anyone pain. Even with the curses protecting me from him, I knew that if he truly wanted to end my life, he could find a way.

And if he wanted me dead, why hadn't he killed me the same night he'd killed my parents? It just didn't add up, and so, I dismissed the possibility.

But I didn't rule out the option that he wanted something from me. But maybe…I wanted something from him too.

I couldn't deny that I felt different around him. With Ron, I'd always felt shy and nervous and happy. With Malfoy, I felt desirous, lustful, and my whole body ached for him. I _could_ not, _would_ not call it love. It was simply impossible. Extreme likeness of, a strong affection for, magnetic attraction to, or anything other than love was responsible.

I froze on the sidewalk, my arms wrapped tightly around me, the icy rain pouring down on me. I was freezing, but I barely noticed. I was too busy trying to convince myself that what I was thinking was completely unfeasible.

"I, Hermione Granger, do not love Draco Malfoy. No. It's preposterous!" I said out loud, to convince myself further. Smiling, I nodded my head and trudged on.

_And you're on fire when he's near you_

_You're on fire when he speaks_

_You're on fire burning at these mysteries_

_Give me one more time around_

_Give me one more chance to see_

_Give me everything you are_

_Give me one more chance to be near you…_

Finally, out of breath, I found a bench partway underneath a tree to sit on. The rain was pouring down even harder, and the harsh slap of it against my face began to sting. I was about to freeze to death, and the material of my jeans against my thighs was beginning to cause chafing. But I would not go back until I'd cleared my head. I was determined.

Not two minutes went by before Draco Malfoy appeared, huffing and shivering, holding an umbrella over his head.

"Hermione! Are you insane? You'll get pneumonia! 'Brightest witch of her age' my ass!" he grumbled, casting the umbrella's protection over my head.

I slid down along the bench, getting out from under the umbrella. This seemed to piss him off. I smiled. _Good._

He scoffed at my motion and shifted his weight to his other hip. He glared down at me as the rain became heavier and heavier. I thought I'd drown soon.

"What is your problem? What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded. "First of all, you just storm out of the house, leaving me to feel like a complete bastard for opening myself up to you…and then you bitch at Harry…which I rather admire…and I come to find you out here, sitting in the pouring rain, like some…" he struggled to find the word, "woman!"

"Oh, I'm _so_ glad you noticed!" I exclaimed sarcastically. He stared, bewildered, at me.

"Hard not to notice when your shirt is soaking wet and you're freezing," he observed happily, staring down at my chest. I knew instantly what he was talking about, so I drew my hands up, embarrassed, to cover myself. He blinked and looked back up at me.

"Please…go away," I begged. I sounded pathetic. His face softened considerably and he only looked at me. Finally, to my surprise, he sat down on the bench next to me, closed his umbrella, and let the rain pour down on his face. "What…are you doing?" I gasped. He closed his eyes and tilted back his head; the rain slid down his face beautifully. He didn't look like he was breathing.

He moved his arm up behind me, where it came to rest along the back of the bench. With his other hand, he pointed to the crook of his neck.

I cocked my head, though I knew he wasn't looking, and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry, 'Mione. I won't bite…" he promised softly. I thought a moment, but I really was cold and knew he was warm. I decided it wouldn't hurt and cautiously lowered my head against his neck. Within seconds, I felt his arm slip around me, pulling me closer to him. He was warm. Very warm. I closed my eyes and sighed.

_Everything inside me looks like everything I hate_

_You are the hope I have for change_

_You are the only chance I'll take_

_And I'm on fire when you're near me_

_I'm on fire when you speak_

_I'm on fire burning at these mysteries_

We stayed that way until the rain stopped. It was peaceful, quiet, and…nice. I was uncomfortable at first, leaning on Draco, but after a while, I didn't mind so much. I actually found myself liking it. I knew I'd have a very bad cold, and I probably would feel incredibly stupid for sitting on a bench during the middle of a downpour, but having Draco there seemed to take all the silliness of it away. As soon as the last droplet of rain splashed against my cheek, Draco stood up and scooped me into his arms. I rested my head against his chest, extremely tired. I looked back at the bench for a fraction of a second, almost sad to leave it.

Lying alone on the seat of the bench was Draco's small, black umbrella. No one else was on the street; no other sounds surrounded me except the drumming of Draco's heartbeat and his footsteps on the wet pavement. I looked at the umbrella, alone on the bench, cast away and soon to be forgotten, and thought it stood for much, much more than a way to get out of the rain.

Not only had we left an umbrella, but we'd left all our hatred with it.

_I'm standing on the edge of me_

_I'm standing at the edge of everything I've ever been before_

_And I've been standing at the edge of me_

_Standing at the edge_

**End Chapter**

Aw! Don't you just love symbolism? Next chapter will not be mushy. Leave me a review if this didn't make you want to run over old ladies or stuff feathers up your nose. Thank you!


	7. Betrayal

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended._

**Au/N: Okay. I apologize ahead of time, but I will have a freaking long-ass author's note. And it will NOT be nice. **

**First of all, I can't please everybody. Some people think this story is too mushy (this is a ROMANCE, people…romances are mushy!) while some people think it's moving far too fast. That may be true…I agree with many of the things you see wrong with it. But I never claimed to be perfect, so please don't send me emails (you know who you are) telling me I should write things that are actually worth reading because this story is a 'piece of trash that doesn't deserve to be published on I don't mind flames…but that's just cold. Cold and undeserved on my part.**

**If you don't want mushy, don't read a romance. If you don't want fast-paced stuff…I'm terribly sorry. I'll try to slow it up a bit. But to that person who sent me that email…that was so MEAN! **

**Ahem I told you it wouldn't be nice. I just had to get it out. Thank you.**

_**Chapter Seven. Betrayal**_

****"Harry? Ron? I'm back!" I yelled as soon as Draco set me down inside the house. I'd become so nervous thinking about what Harry and Ron would say…I couldn't think straight. I prepared myself for ridicule, hatred, and flying objects. This would not be easy.

"Hermione?" said a voice from the living room. I turned, suddenly very afraid, to look at Draco. He smiled reassuringly, nodding. I slowly walked into the living room. Harry was sitting up on the couch; he'd obviously fallen asleep there, judging by the way his clothes were wrinkled and a blanket was strewn across him. He straightened his bent glasses and grinned at me. I glanced at the chair by the fireplace to see Ron sucking on his thumb and cuddling with a teddy bear.

"Harry…I'm so sorry that I made you worry! I just…lost track of time…"

"That's fine, 'Mione. Just…please…don't do that to me again. I thought something had happened to you," Harry said, his eyes glancing over my shoulder to Draco.

"Well…nothing did. And if you were so worried, why didn't you come after me yourselves?"

"I…I don't know. I remember grabbing Ron and heading to the door…but after that, there's nothing." Harry seemed lost in thought. He became incredibly nervous. His eyes grew wide. "I really have no idea what happened!" Harry said loudly. "My head…oh God…'Mione…" his confused expression turned to a look of horrible pain. He fell to his knees, writhing in agony. No sooner had I dropped to Harry's side then I heard Ron begin screaming, too.

I looked up and saw that Ron had fallen out of his chair. The teddy bear fell to the ground and Ron kicked and screamed on the floor. I bit my lip, trying to hold Harry down, trying to keep his hands away from his face, because he was tearing long, bloody scratches into his flesh. But no sooner had I secured his hands at his sides when I realized that Harry wasn't causing the gashes. An unseen force was causing the injuries to appear on his face. I looked at Ron in horror; it was the same with him.

"Draco!" I screamed, finding it more and more difficult to hold Harry down. "Help me! Get Ron!" Tears began to well up in my eyes as I watched my best friends twist in brutal agony, invisible hands clawing at their flesh, not knowing what to do. To me, having no idea what's going on was the worst possibility in the world. I struggled to understand what was happening, but then I heard a chillingly familiar voice fill my ears.

"My, my, my, Draco! The Golden Trio, laid into my very hands. I knew you'd be good for something. Now…reclaim your wand…and show me how much you've learned."

Fear stabbed cold, icy daggers into my heart. My lips were numb and I couldn't speak. I could not blink or breathe. I looked from the bruised, starving man who'd spoken to the younger, healthier man whom I'd come to think of as something more than a ferret. He looked down at the floor and muttered, "Accio, wand," before I even realized what was going on.

He'd come to my home, entered my new family, taken over my heart, and put me at ease…just before he led his father to me and leaned in for the kill.

"Lucius…" I breathed, feeling my hands beginning to shake. I realized with short-lived joy that Harry and Ron had stopped screaming in pain and were lying peacefully on the floor, breathing normally. But then I turned to look at the Malfoys and all hope left me.

"And how have you been, Mudblood?" Lucius Malfoy asked coldly. His ragged appearance was easily explained. He'd survived the war, gone into hiding the same way Sirius Black had, and had been waiting for his chance for revenge. Luckily, his cunning son was there to lend him a helping hand. He noticed that I was glaring at his disheveled persona and he grimaced. "Don't like what you see, Mudblood? Well, I wouldn't look like this if a certain little bitch and her two idiotic friends hadn't decided to save the world at the most inopportune time, now would I?" he demanded. He began to circle me, looking disgustedly at me. I crossed my arms in discomfort.

After a moment, Lucius stopped. I closed my eyes, knowing I'd probably die soon. It didn't seem so bad an idea right then; I'd exposed my friends to the most dangerous man alive, and to top it all of, I'd fallen in love with him. Suddenly, Lucius leaned in—and took a deep, hungry breath of me. My eyes snapped open in shock. I glared straight across from me at Draco—he also looked surprised.

"Did you fuck her?" Lucius demanded, rushing toward his son, his eyes on fire.

"N-no! Never!" Draco screamed. I saw fear plastered on his face. Lucius was the only man he was afraid of. Draco's words hurt me so severely I almost did wish Lucius would kill me. I'd already lost my family, my friends, and my dignity. What was my life?

Lucius cooled off at his son's response, but I still noticed there was an edge to the way he moved and a darting, suspicious glare in his eyes.

"But you're close to her. I can tell by the way you're standing there—afraid to touch her. My son has never been afraid to touch a woman. Not even Mudblood whores." Lucius sneered down at me, his matted hair falling across his dirty face. "I just never thought you'd care for one…" Lucius said softly, eerily. He came very close to my face, so that I could feel his cool breath against my skin. "Is it because she's alone? Is it because you're the reason she's alone?"

My breath caught in my throat.

"Did he tell you, Mudblood? Did he tell you that he was the reason your family was wiped out? Did he?" Lucius demanded. I didn't answer him. I only stared at Draco, my eyes narrowed, my hands clenched into fists.

"The Dark Lord…gave him an order. He told my disloyal son to end the lives of Maria and Travis Granger, as well as the life of their infant son, Thomas."

My eyes began to burn as the tears of pure, unadulterated hatred consumed me. But I would not let Lucius or Draco see my tears. Lucius began to pace the room, telling his story with glee. I continued to glare at Draco. He could not look at me.

"My son was told that I would accompany him on his mission. However, the Dark Lord only entrusted my son with the location of this...house. He was commanded to take me with him, but he—my son—used a spell to immobilize me for several hours. He apparated to this house, but not before snatching my invisibility cloak.

"He did not anticipate the Dark Lord arriving at our home to give him more instructions. He found me there, unable to move, and released the enchantment. Furious, he commanded me to follow my son, giving me the exact location of where he'd be. If Draco did not end the lives of your pointless family, I was responsible for carrying out the mission."

I took a deep breath as Lucius called my family "pointless." I struggled to maintain control over myself, but with every second, I felt my grip on my emotions slipping away.

"And so, I came to be here. I found my son, watching a little family from beneath the invisibility cloak. His wand was poised and ready, and it would've been quick and simple, but he failed to carry out his orders. He'd always been weak; I should've known since the very moment he'd not killed that pathetic excuse of a Headmaster that he'd never amount to anything. So…" Lucius laughed and wiped tears of glee out of his eyes as he retold his marvelous story, "I killed them myself, after Draco left. I couldn't have him stepping in to save the day, now, could I?" Lucius laughed harder and harder until he held his stomach in pain.

I felt physically sick, watching the sick son of a bitch who'd murdered my family in cold blood laugh. He made my family seem like a joke, a sham. He made the few, precious years I spent with them seem like nothing. And Draco had never done anything. He'd never killed my family; he'd had the heart that his father lacked. But somehow, I still couldn't look at him. Maybe it was because I was hurting so badly, or maybe it was because I was so angry. But I think the main reason would be that I slammed my fist into Lucius Malfoy's jaw so hard that he spun around and fell flat on his smug ass.

**End Chapter**

Well, some things are explained, and I took out the mushy. And it went much slower. Anyway, leave a review!


	8. The Demon

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended._

**Au/N: You people are sooo nice to me after I've fussed! Thank you guys for the kind reviews. I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who thinks people who want a ROMANCE to be UNMUSHY are just plain weird. Thanks again.**

**_Chapter Eight. The Demon_**

As Lucius Malfoy collided with the floor, I couldn't help but feel shocked at what I'd done. I'd just attacked a man who could kill me with the flick of his wrist and feel no remorse…and yet, it was too damn funny to_ not_ laugh about.

I giggled as he slowly stood up, holding his backside. He heard the laugh escape my lips and whirled on me, fire in his steel gray eyes.

"You laugh now, but I doubt that you will once I've severed you from your voice box, Mudblood." Smiling widely for a fraction of a second, his arm flew above his head, wand pointed directly at me. "Draco…son…" his grin faded into an evil, ghastly stare. "Watch…and learn something."

I glanced at Draco and saw that he was paler than usual. I also noticed that his hand was in his robes, his fist clenched around something in his left pocket.

"Cruciatus!" Lucius screamed, tearing me away from any coherent thought. Instantly, pain shot through my limbs and I fell to the ground, unable to move. I screamed and felt hot tears pouring out of my eyes, but I couldn't control it. It felt as though every bone in my body was crushed; every muscle ripped to shreds. I vaguely realized that blood was dripping out of my nose.

Lucius stared at me, hatred and contempt in his eyes. He was completely mad. A wide, wicked grin was spread across his face, but his eyes had turned cold and black; very little of the steel gray was present. He reminded me of a shark with gnashing teeth and a lust for blood. My heart was pounding, but it was purely from fear, not from the intense pain that was everywhere.

Lucius flicked his wrist, and more pain rushed through my body. I screamed again until my throat hurt.

"Petrificus totalus!" a voice screamed out of nowhere. Lucius Malfoy became a rigid block, much like Neville had in first year. As Lucius's wand fell to the ground, the pain evaporated. The sudden change made my head spin; I gasped for air and closed my eyes as a few more tears rolled down my cheeks. My head lolled to one side as I felt the remainder of all throbbing and aching slip away from me.

Someone (a very nice-smelling someone) threw themselves down next to me. I felt warm hands on both sides of my face. A male voice was calling my name.

"Hermione! Hermione, look at me. I'm right here, Hermione…do you know me? Please…if you can hear me, squeeze my hand." The man slipped his hand into mine and I felt peace radiating through me. I opened my eyes and turned my head to see who'd come to my rescue.

"M—Malfoy?" I asked incredulously. His eyes grew wide for a moment, but then he squeezed them shut and pulled me against his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and rested his chin on the top of my head. Too weak to fight back, I let my head rest against his pale neck. My hand was pressed tightly against his chest, and I realized that his heart was beating very fast beneath my skin. The surreal feeling of everything that just happened overwhelmed me, not to mention the fact that I never wanted to be separated from Draco Malfoy ever again.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry's foot twitch. The half-dazed feeling disappeared, and I pulled away from Draco's arms and crawled to Harry.

"Harry!" I gasped, turning his face to me with shaking hands. His eyes were closed, he was bloody, and his clothes were torn. He did not respond.

I turned to Draco.

"See if you can get anything out of Ron! Now!" I said it with enough urgency that Draco wasted no time in rushing to Ron and shaking him. I screamed, "Accio wand!" and once my wand was in hand, I wondered why the hell I hadn't summoned it before. But I realized that Lucius would've killed me before it had been safely in my grasp, and it had been much more satisfying to make direct contact with his bony face.

Holding my wand over Harry's major wounds, I muttered a healing spell; as each wound closed up, I saw more and more color return to Harry's skin. It wasn't long before I heard Ron moaning and complaining, thanks to Draco.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice asked hopefully. He must've seen that it was Draco instead, because he said, "Oh, bugger. You didn't give me mouth-to-mouth, did you?" Before Draco answered, Ron was already sitting up and wiping his mouth furiously.

Harry began to breathe steadily, and finally, as the last of the major wounds was healed, he opened his eyes and tried to sit up. I assisted him in his effort; he was very weak and groaned as I pulled him upward. He held his head in his hands and licked his lips before he saw me.

"Hermione!" he gasped, sounding relieved. I smiled, tears forming in my eyes, and threw my arms around him. I could breathe again.

"What? I don't get a hug?" Ron pouted. I looked up at his voice and saw that one arm was slung around Draco's neck. Ron looked disgusted, but Draco refused to let him stand on his own. I lifted one arm from around Harry's neck and motioned to Ron to bend down.

Draco gently set Ron down next to me, and the redhead enveloped Harry and me in a suffocating hug. My tears of joy flowed freely down my face as I realized what a miracle it was that we were all okay. I noticed that one of the party was missing.

"Draco? Where—"

I turned around to find that Draco Malfoy and his father's stiff body had disappeared entirely. In their place stood a single man, wrapped from head to foot in black robes. As he pulled the hood away from his face, I gasped in complete horror.

"You!" Harry screamed, his jaw locking into place as he reached for his wand.

"Shut up, Potter. I haven't come for you…not yet. I've an order, you see…one that simply cannot be interfered with."

"What the hell are you doing here? We thought you were dead!" Harry demanded, somewhat confusedly.

"You'll know soon enough, Potter. And I wouldn't do that if I were you." With a flick of his wrist, the newcomer extracted Harry's wand from Harry's own pocket and tossed it across the room—where it slid out of sight beneath a sofa.

A wicked smile curled up at the familiar man's lips. I still couldn't bring it upon myself to breathe.

"As I was saying, I've not come for you, Potter. It's not your time. However, there is a matter of great importance that my master finds absolutely irresistible and is very curious about." I saw his eyes glance toward me, and I wondered what on earth he was talking about. "So, without further delay, I'll be taking the Mudblood with me, if you don't mind." In the blink of an eye, he reached out and grabbed my arm, pulled me next to him, and began to apparate. I could hear Harry's and Ron's screams as pressure pushed against my ears and confusion, fear, and hatred coursed through me. I struggled against my enemy, but he held me firmly against him, and I could not move.

Within seconds, my feet found a solid surface. As soon as I recognized that I was in a huge, luxurious dining room, Snape, my attacker, dropped me to my knees. I groaned as my elbows and knees collided hard with the cold tile beneath me. Snape chuckled cruelly and spoke to someone in the room.

"Master…I've brought you the Mudblood, as you requested. Potter and Weasley have no idea where we are. Lucius has been immobilized, but we have recovered him and his son, and we will have him resuscitated shortly. Will there be anything else, my lord?" I stared at the floor, afraid to look up and see who it was that was speaking.

"Yes…" a chilling, snakelike voice whispered. I took a deep breath and raised my head to seek out the speaker. My heart nearly stopped altogether from shock as a decayed, ghostly face loomed right before mine. I screamed and stumbled backward, crawling away on my hands and knees. I couldn't stand; my legs were numb and useless.

But no matter how far or how fast I crawled, the demon-like creature's long, bony fingers found their way into my hair. I felt his hands curling into it, and then yanking it back. I bit my lip as pain attacked my scalp; I raised up on my knees as he held me in place by my hair.

"Miss Granger…so nice to meet you. I've heard so many things…" he said. His breath reeked of a smell I couldn't place, but that was familiar. As he grinned at me, I realized what the smell was, because red stains coated his teeth; I'd smelt the blood on his breath, and I did not doubt that it was human.

"Ah! And look who's come to join us for the meal this evening?" The demon averted his eyes to someone else; he allowed me to turn my head minimally so I could see. Draco stood in the door, escorted by two other Death Eaters. When he caught sight of me, his mouth opened slightly, but he quickly changed his expression to one of cold indifference. We both apparently understood how vital it was for the both of us to act entirely hateful to the other.

"Master…" Draco said, falling to his knees before the creature and bowing. He glanced sideways at me, but he made no move to stand until the demon holding my hair threw me aside. For the second time, my face hit the floor and I felt my lip burst. Blood trickled down my chin, and I tried to wipe it away.

"Stand," said the beast to Draco. Draco did so, but he looked afraid.

"Master, I can explain--"

"Oh, you don't have to explain anything at all, I assure you…I'll have you prove your loyalty to me in a much more adequate fashion…"

Voldemort. He was standing before me, gazing at me, evil intent clear in his eyes. But it couldn't be! Harry had killed him; I'd seen it with my own eyes. It was impossible…a trick. But the pain I was feeling was terrifyingly real.

"I've heard of a rather interesting circumstance involving you and this woman, Malfoy. It seems you two have grown quite close since you came to work for Miss Granger, my trusted apprentice. Normally, I would applaud you in your efforts to deceive her and gain information…but the way they speak of the emotion with which you look at her…makes me…doubt you."

Malfoy turned even paler and I thought he was going to be sick. I felt much the same, myself.

"But…I'm going to let you prove your devotion to me, as I said before. So…show me, apprentice," Voldemort demanded, motioning to me coolly. "End her life…and yours will be spared. Easy enough for a man who's lying about loving her, don't you think?"

Oh God, I thought. I'm…I'm going to die. Draco is going to kill me. It's over. It's really, really over this time. I closed my eyes and thought of something warm, like the sun…or summer…or Draco's skin.

Then, as music to my ears, came the desperate, resigned, but very clear:

"I can't."

**End Chapter**

Like it? Love it? Can't stand anymore of it? Lemme know in a review! Please forgive grammatical errors and such; I wrote this on a sugar high!


	9. You Don't Know Love

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended._

**Au/N: You people are sooo nice to me after I've fussed! Thank you guys for the kind reviews. I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who thinks people who want a ROMANCE to be UNMUSHY are just plain weird. Thanks again.**

**_Chapter Nine. You Don't Know Love_**

Draco Malfoy

A thousand emotions were all running through me at once. Fear and anxiety were the top two, followed closely by confusion and anger. And when anger follows fear, at least in my case, bad things are bound to happen.

What had Hermione done? What was her purpose in being here? I was the one who'd let Voldemort down. I was the one who'd attacked another Death Eater. I was the one who'd somehow let myself become attached to a "less worthy" witch. She'd taken me in, given me a home where I felt…needed…and she loved me. No one had ever loved me before, except maybe Pansy Parkinson, and you can't really count the love of a sex-crazed whore, now, can you?

But there she was, despite the fact that she had the least to do with this out of anyone. I'd attacked my father of my own free will; I would've done it regardless of whether or not he'd been threatening Hermione. Sometime during my stay at Hermione's house, something had changed in me. I didn't know what it was, but I knew that Hermione was responsible. And I would not let the one person, who'd somehow broken down the wall I'd fought to keep standing, die at _his_ hands. Not if I had anything in the world to say about it.

"I can't," I said, expecting my voice to be strong and sure. But it wasn't. It was weak and shaky, and I knew that it was not very intimidating. I inwardly kicked myself, cleared my throat, and spoke again. "I can't."

Hermione, who'd been lying limply on the floor, slowly tilted up her head to stare at me. Voldemort, I noticed, was not in the least surprised.

"Your loyalty to this whore is greater in measure than your fear of me, Draco." Voldemort raised an eyebrow as though speculating, and he crossed his arms tightly around him. Slowly, he began to talk as he circled me and Hermione.

"This…presents me with a dilemma, Draco. Your father has served me faithfully for decades, as did his father before him. You also showed true potential…ever since your third year. But after spending only a minimal amount of time with those we're fighting to destroy, you've grown…more than attached to one. One that I simply cannot let live, you understand…" Voldemort said, stopping behind me, leaning forward, and speaking directly into my ear. His cold breath tickled my neck, and his words sounded strained, as though he regretted telling me that he'd have to kill Hermione. I knew he didn't. He didn't regret anything.

I felt him back away from me, and I saw him begin to walk again out of the corner of my eye. He slowly made his way to Hermione, still talking.

"Young love. I knew love once. Or as close to love as I'll ever know now…" he paused, staring down at Hermione, reminiscing. "She was a lot like you, you know. Long, untamable red hair. Intelligence to rival my own. Beautiful. As perfect as a woman can be without being a goddess…" Voldemort was bending down slightly, his eyes closing slowly as he spoke. He leaned down to Hermione. She sat up, a new fire burning in her eyes. She looked completely defiant—and her hand moved minimally as she searched her pocket for her wand.

I gasped as I realized that Voldemort was smelling her. He took a long, deep breath, and he half-smiled. He stayed that way for a few moments. Hermione's expression turned frantic; she must have discovered that her wand was missing.

Suddenly, Voldemort straightened up and glared down at her, disgust filling his eyes.

"But she was stolen from me. By none other than the father of your beloved Harry Potter!" Voldemort said, spitting Potter's name out as though it burned his tongue. His expression softened. "Not that it matters now…she's dead. So is he. And their son, the abomination! He won't be around much longer, either. Thanks to you, Draco. You've lead me right to him. And you didn't even realize it."

My eyes widened in shock; he was far, far ahead of me. He knew exactly where Harry was, and he probably had a couple Death Eaters flying to Hermione's house right then to capture him and present him to their master. I began to sweat as I tried to think of a possible route of escape, but the windows in the magnificent dining hall were boarded shut, and the doors were guarded by two tall, muscular Death Eaters. Hermione looked too weak to walk. There was no way I could get both of us out of there alive.

"You know, the possibilities are endless when you have servants that are willing to die for you. Especially those who are talented in the area of illusions…all it takes is a little potion…and anyone can look like you, sound like you, practically be you. Die for you…if some little boy-that-got-away decides to try and kill you." Voldemort grinned. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long, thin object. He came closer to me and I examined it. It was the tail of a rat. I tried to put two and two together, but he explained himself long before the realization hit me.

"Pettigrew was the epitome of a faithful servant. It distressed me that he met his untimely end at the hand of Harry Potter. But, Pettigrew provided me with the perfect solution: play dead and find Potter. If everyone thought I was dead…and people began to relax…I knew they'd forget themselves, let clues as to Potter's whereabouts slip—and it wasn't long before I discovered that pretty little Draco Malfoy was playing house with my archenemy." Voldemort glared at me and spoke my name through his teeth. Hermione's face was full of sudden understanding. I still couldn't believe that he'd fooled so many people.

"So…Pettigrew tossed back a bit of Polyjuice Potion, made himself into you, and Potter killed him?" I asked, trying to put off Hermione's and my untimely ends.

Voldemort nodded, a twisted grin on his face. He looked utterly proud of himself.

"And…you found out where Harry was…because you knew that I was working for him?"

"Yes…and I knew that if I found you, I found him. It only made sense that the Ministry would send you to work in his house—after all, who else could you hate more?"

"I was sent to work for _Hermione_," I corrected, knowing that I'd die anyway, and not really caring if he was a little bit pissed off.

"Yes. And the scar that Pettigrew so kindly left on Potter completely immobilized him. So, one could deduce that…since the Mudblood and Potter were _such good friends_…she'd be living with him, nursing him…loving him." He spoke the word 'loving' with such disdain that I began to wonder if he even knew the definition of love. Hermione could tell him. She was a walking dictionary.

"And that is something you'd know nothing about!" Hermione screamed, standing and turning scarlet. She screamed with all her soul at him. He actually looked taken aback. "Who are you to cast such a shadow on love! You know nothing! You claim to be a…a king! A mastermind! A god, even! You are nothing! You are not a man nor a wizard! You are a monster; a sick, twisted demon! You wipe out human lives as though they are nothing! If you think you know so much, then tell me, why aren't you loved?"

Voldemort was smiling, delighted at her anger. He was probably thinking of the many ways to kill her. I wanted to shake her and scream at her to stop. But a part of me told me not to move or think for once; it would all end soon, anyway. Voldemort glanced over at his loyal Death Eaters; Hermione caught his quick movement.

"_Them_?" she cried indignantly; tears were pouring out of her eyes. "You think _they_ love you? They don't love you! They fear you! Only one person stayed with you when you were in need, and where is he now? Oh, I nearly forgot! You got him KILLED! Though, I guess I shouldn't be surprised, because that's what murderous bastards do!" Hermione screamed. She walked closer and closer to him, her voice becoming more strained; I imagined that her throat would be very hoarse in the morning…but I knew there wouldn't be one.

Voldemort maintained his cool. Hermione stopped screaming, but she was breathing heavily, her chest heaving up and down. She looked at him, disgusted, and turned to walk away. I don't know where she thought she was going, but she didn't get there.

His hand shot out, faster than lightning, and caught her by the throat. Hermione's choked cry caught in her throat; her hands flew up to claw at his. He grinned wider, holding her up above him. I watched in dumbstruck horror as her face turned red and her eyes began to roll back in her head. I tried so hard to think, but I couldn't move. My arms were amazingly heavy, and I felt unnaturally sick. It had never happened to me before, but I knew why it was happening now.

I loved her. I loved Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, the filthy Mudblood, the loathsome little bitch. We were complete opposites, mortal enemies, destined to end in ruins. But I'd never felt helpless when watching someone struggle for life before; I smiled as a plan formulated in my mind.

I loved her. As tears slid down the side of her face and her eyes closed, I knew that beyond a doubt. Voldemort had made one mistake, one that would prove vital in escaping him.

I was the world's most feared wizard (other than himself), and he'd left me with a wand in my pocket. My fingers pulled it out without difficulty, and I screamed a curse at him before he had time to recognize his mistake.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"

And he fell, immobilized, to the dining room floor.

**End Chapter**

Hey guys! Hope you liked this chapter. Please excuse errors; you know my beta is always at fault (hehehe)

REVIEW!


	10. You'll Just Have to Trust Me

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended._

**Au/N: Ahhh! I love reviews, you know. They make me happy! Thanks you guys!**

**_Chapter Ten. You'll Just Have to Trust Me_**

Hermione Granger

The screaming was nearly unbearable, and it continued for what felt like hours. I didn't have my wand, but apparently, Draco had his. He fought off Death Eaters as they came, a fire burning in his eyes that I'd never seen before…except when he'd kissed me. I put the thought out of my mind, focusing instead of how to survive it all.

I felt something whiz past me, and I knew I'd come very close to feeling an immense amount of pain. Draco obviously saw it, because he grabbed me by my wrist, his eyes focused on the Death Eaters rushing toward us, and pulled my body behind him. He pulled me against him so that I couldn't even see over his shoulder; he was much taller than me, and I could hear his heart pounding against my ear.

"Wonderful! What's your plan now, genius?" I asked, fear making my voice sound a little more malicious toward Draco than I'd intended.

"You'll…just have to trust me," he breathed, sounding tired. To my horror, I noticed blood seeping out through a cut in his arm.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he screamed, spitting the curse into the air. I reached out and grabbed his arm as he let it fall to his side; I saw a green light and heard another body fall to the floor. I glared at the bloody gash on his upper arm and saw that it was very, very deep. Blood coated my hands, and the smell made me sick.

I turned away from the gash, pressing my back against Draco's. I tried to think straight, to figure out a way to get out of that place, wherever we were, but I had no idea where to begin. Then I noticed a Death Eater coming toward me, one who I recognized, but couldn't place…one that Draco couldn't see. In a moment, my Gryffindor bravery disappeared, because I didn't know how to perform a spell without a wand that would not cause harm.

So I did the only thing I could've done.

"DRACO!" I screamed, embarrassed that I sounded like a frightened child. Draco wheeled around and screamed the killing curse again at the approaching Death Eater. As the green light faded and the body fell to the floor, I realized who it was.

"SNAPE!" I screamed, pointing at the lifeless body before me. "Draco—you—you—"

"It was him or you, Hermione! I had to make a decision!" He screamed another curse, and I wondered just why seeing Snape dead bothered me so much.

Maybe it was because he'd taught me for so many years, or maybe it was because he'd been Draco's trusted mentor for even longer, and Draco had chosen to kill him instead of me.

A new plan of escape must've dawned on Draco, because I felt his grip tighten on my wrist. Quickly, he slid his hand down and interlocked his fingers with mine.

"See the window?" he asked urgently, just before blocking another curse that was coming our way. He jerked his head to the side, and I saw the only window in the whole room that we could've made our way to. There were a few boards on it, but not as many as there were on the others.

"Yes…" I hissed into his ear, letting him know I was ready to run.

"On the count of three, we're going to make a break for it—" he began through clenched teeth. Suddenly, a light hit him on his side, and I heard him groan as he stumbled backward. He stepped heavily on me, though he was trying to avoid me, and I cried out in pain. He fell against me, and I collided with the floor as he fell on top of me. I shook my head and sat up quickly.

I glanced beside me; Draco had fallen in an awkward position against the floor. I swallowed hard and noticed with growing apprehension that more Death Eaters were closing in around us. I knew that it wouldn't work the same, but I didn't have time to think; I grabbed Draco's wand as he groaned in pain. Standing, I pointed it angrily at the Death Eaters and screamed "AVADA KEDAVRA!" at the nearest one. A dark color other than the normal green escaped the wand, but it did knock my attacker off his feet.

I'd just used the killing curse. Or attempted to use it. Intended with my whole heart to use it. I gasped in shock, realizing that I couldn't do it again, no matter how much I wanted to.

"Give it up, Mudblood! You're out of ideas…" one of the broad-shouldered Death Eaters hissed. A few more were coming, smiling evilly, their teeth gleaming white, their eyes full of hatred and…numbness.

They were numb to it all. I wet my lips and blinked. I needed my wand. I really, really needed my wand.

Then, Draco was up again. He was clutching his chest with one hand, but his other hand quickly grabbed mine. He began running in the direction of the window, pulling me with him. Angry Death Eaters began to run after us; we dodged spells left and right, but one caught me on the arm and a searing pain burned into my flesh.

"Draco!" I screamed, "Why can't we apparate?"

"I don't know! I tried and it didn't work!" he screamed back, running even faster toward the window. Before he even reached it, he reared back and cried, "Bombarda!" The boards exploded away from the window and the glass shattered into the outside. It was nighttime and cold, I noticed, as freezing air rushed in around us. Draco slipped his arm around my waist, warned me to hold on, and jumped out the window. I screamed my head off, hoping that he knew what he was doing. But another curse struck me in the head, and I fell unconscious; my last thoughts were of death and pain, but somehow, after what I'd just experienced, death didn't seem too unkind a fate.

-:-

"Hermione!" a deep voice cried. I felt myself being shaken furiously, and I finally opened my eyes to see Draco standing before me. His lip was cut and his cheek was bruised, not to mention his bleeding arm. I felt a severe pain in the back of my head and my arm throbbed, but I didn't say anything to him about it.

"Where are we?" I asked groggily. The words came out jumbled, and I noticed a look cross over Draco's face. "Where…are…we?" I asked again, slowly. He nodded his head, sighed, and walked away from me.

I sat up slowly, holding my head, and noticed that we were in a warm, bright room, but not one that I recognized. My head had been resting comfortably on a soft, white pillow. The bed I was lying on was covered in a patchwork quilt; it was the kind of thing a grandmother would make for her family. I watched as Draco paced back and forth in front of me, holding his head, groaning, sighing, and scowling. I tried not to be amused.

"Are you going to answer my question sometime today?" I asked, bringing him out of his fit. He seemed startled that I'd spoken, but he only sighed again and shook his head.

"We're somewhere safe, Hermione. I couldn't take you home, because I didn't want Voldemort to follow us and find Potter."

"But he said he already knows where Harry is!" I remembered, sitting up quickly, prepared to leave as soon as possible.

"There's always the chance he's lying, though…and just in case he was, I don't want to be foolish enough to allow him a chance to find Potter." Draco began to furiously pace again, but I was nowhere near finished questioning him.

"Why didn't…why didn't you kill him? All you did was immobilize him! He'll be as good as new in a few hours!"

"I couldn't bloody well kill the bastard! That's Potter's job, remember, Princess?" Draco said sarcastically, running a hand through his hair. I scowled, but noticed his bleeding arm again.

"Draco—"

"WHAT?" he shouted angrily; his eyes were full of rage and confusion. I cowered away from him and sank into the pillows.

"Your…your arm is bleeding…" I whispered, not looking at him. I stared at the quilt before me and noticed the small place where someone had missed a stitch; it was expected of any handmade item, but somehow, I couldn't tear my eyes away from it. I just couldn't look at him.

I heard him breathe a sigh of exhaustion as he sat down heavily on the bed, next to my legs. His knees hung off the side of the bed, and he rested his elbows on them, and placed his head in his hands.

"Please…" I began, but he cut me off. He drew out his wand and pointed it at his wound. He whispered curtly, and the wound completely disappeared. I gasped.

"If…if you could do that, then why did you let me take care of you that time I—I…hit you?" I asked timidly. A miniscule smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"I don't know. I wasn't going to let you, but then you touched me…and I liked it." He grinned wider, causing his lip to split further. He pointed his wand at it, and then it was gone.

"And I have a question to ask you, Hermione," he whispered, smiling again. "I saw how you took care of Harry when he was attacked; you know how to use the same healing spell…so why did you take care of me the muggle way that night…the one where you lost your temper?" he asked, watching me suspiciously.

I knew he had a good point. I could've just pointed my wand at him and every single one of those bruises that I'd put on his handsome face would've disappeared. But I didn't do that. I hadn't really thought about it, at least until he'd brought it up. Since I didn't have a good answer, I blushed furiously and returned my gaze to the miss-stitch in the quilt. But out of the corner of my eye, I could've sworn I saw his smile stretch from ear to ear.

"We h-have to find Harry…" I began, but I was cut off when his face came dangerously close to mine. I could smell the sweat on his brow, could feel the heat radiating off him. I could even taste the salt on his skin. His lips brushed my cheek, and my mouth dropped open in shock. He rested the side of his face against mine and took a deep breath. My heart stopped beating.

He seemed to stay there forever, taking deep breaths of me. It was frightening at first, but eventually my heart's pace began to slow, and I found myself sliding my fingers up his back, neck, and into his hair. His lips found their way to my neck, and a pleasant sensation rushed through me as I felt him begin to suck on it. I let a moan slip as his lips grazed my collarbone. I pressed my knees together unconsciously.

Suddenly, it ended. He pulled away, a very boyish smile on his face. It was a lopsided grin of sorts, the kind you see on the face of a two-year-old who just got a big piece of bubblegum. I couldn't help but smile sheepishly at him. He took his wand and carefully healed the wound on the back of my head, and then he took my hand in his and pulled me up out of bed.

"Let's go get Potter," he said with conviction. I nodded, and he pulled me toward the door. As we stepped out of the bright little room, I glanced back at the bed and saw the quilt with the few little misplaced stitches and smiled. Then I turned to follow Draco and prepared myself for the final, decisive battle that would come all too soon.

**End Chapter**

Ooooooooooooooooo. Yeah, but they had a mushy moment because I haven't decided who'll make it yet, and just in case I let one of them go, I wanted them to have a "last happy moment" together, you know. Review if you liked it, review if you didn't, or leave me a number between one and ten (ten's the highest)!!!


	11. The Fog

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended._

**Au/N: to divide the number of reviews I have by the number of chapters I've posted, you get 15.3. Isn't that a lovely number??? But I'd like it even more if it were bigger!!!! (This is a hint. Unless you are blind—which you aren't, or you wouldn't be reading this—then you'll take the hint and leave me a review!! Mucho thanks, people!)**

_**Chapter Eleven. The Fog**_

Hermione Granger

Once we were outside, I turned around to see the house we'd just been in. The house held a warm, happy memory, even in the middle of all the madness.

But it wasn't there.

"Malfoy! Where's the house?" I cried in alarm. His hold on my hand tightened considerably, but he kept walking, pulling me with him. My eyes searched frantically for any sign of a house, but there wasn't one. We were in the middle of nowhere, standing at a crossroads. The road was made of dirt and gravel, and I didn't recognize my surroundings at all. It was cold and nighttime, but the stars and the moon weren't out to light our way.

"Where are we?" I asked softly; worry was building up in my chest and weighing me down.

"Don't worry, 'Mione. We're not too far from your house." That answer was not good enough. I narrowed my eyes at the back of his head and dug my heels into the ground.

He stopped with a jolt, along with me. I held him back with all my strength, but I knew he could've thrown me off or dragged me along if he'd really wanted to. Eventually, he gave up and released me. He turned to smile his warm, genuine smile at me.

"I tell you what…I'll go first, if it makes you feel better. But there's nothing out there, I promise. Your house is just around those trees there."

He turned again and began to walk away, his shoes grinding into the gravel road. As his footsteps fell faint in my ears, I noticed that a strange fog was approaching eerily from three sides of me, crawling along the earth as though possessed.

"Fine! Just…leave me, then!" I screamed, stomping my foot hard on the gravel road. He laughed in the distance, probably thinking I was joking.

I crossed my arms against my chest and thought of the many ways I'd repay him for this.

"Hermione?" his voice called suddenly, with a strong urgency to it. "Something's…not right…" came his voice again from somewhere ahead of me. The fog was so thick and fast-moving that he was completely hidden by it in a matter of seconds. I reached out into the white fog so that I didn't bump into anything—and gasped in pain as it sent an electric shock through my body.

I screamed as I jerked back my hand and backed away from the white expanse of nothingness before me. Malfoy heard me scream.

"Hermione! Don't move! Stay exactly where you are; I'm coming for you!" he yelled, the fog even seeming to muffle his voice. Shaking my head, I noticed that his words seemed to echo…and drop considerably in pitch. Finally, all I heard was a dull buzzing sound. Fear surged through me as I inspected the hand that I'd plunged into the fog.

It was gone.

My hand had completely disappeared.

"MY HAND! MALFOY! MY HAND IS GONE!" I screeched, but to my amazement, I only heard a low buzzing noise. My throat began to close up; I saw that my other hand was disappearing as well.

Looking around frantically, I saw something that frightened me more than anything ever had. The fog had surrounded me, leaving a small circle around me. If I was any kind of sane, I knew that no cloud was supposed to encircle objects, and clouds definitely weren't supposed to shock you and make body parts disappear. Realization stung almost as much as the fog did.

It was another trap. We'd been followed, found-out, tracked down…

Searching desperately for a way out, I turned completely around, looking for a space in the barrier around me. There was none. As I moved, I realized that the circle was becoming smaller and smaller—and my body was becoming almost transparent.

Suddenly, just as all hope was abandoning me, I felt a strong hand clamp down on my shoulder. I whipped around, my heart pounding in my chest, expecting to find Voldemort or a Death Eater.

But there was no one.

Then I heard a buzzing. A low, urgent buzzing. I stared into the spot where I'd expected to find a person standing, confusion accompanying the throbbing in my head. I still saw no one.

And then two soft, moist lips pressed against mine. I stood still at first, shocked to the core, not seeing anyone to kiss me. But I recognized the way the invisible mouth moved against mine, and I knew—Malfoy.

The lips abandoned mine, and I heard buzzing again. Malfoy was trying to talk to me, which explained the buzzing. And…he didn't know that I couldn't hear him. Thinking quickly, I pointed to my ear, and then I shook my head furiously. The buzzing stopped; I assumed he was trying to understand.

My feet began to tingle. I looked down and saw that the fog had wrapped around my ankles, and my feet had disappeared. My legs were fading fast; I couldn't tear my eyes away until the only thing I could see was my thighs. Then I closed my eyes tightly and took deep breaths. And I felt it begin to rain. It soaked into my clothes, ran down my back, and slid down my face. But the fog was almost touching my skin now, and I felt painful pricks of electricity jabbing into my body. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

I wished I could see Mal—Draco. I wanted so badly to see him again; the pain was dizzying, but I knew that if he kissed me again, or if I could only look into his eyes, I'd be alright.

If I could touch him, we'd both be okay.

Keeping my eyes closed, I reached out again into the fog, feeling for Draco's face. The pain was so intense that I screamed out loud, my lungs aching for air. It felt like a thousand tiny knives were cutting into my flesh, ripping at the muscle beneath, sawing at the bone. But then I felt my hand collide with soft flesh, and I forgot the pain.

Draco. I felt him.

His warm hand gripped my wrist in reassurance, but I could tell he was in so much pain. The fog was coming. I felt it press against my back.

And it burned and cut and ripped away at everything.

But I couldn't scream anymore.

It should've been unbearable, and it very nearly was…but I could endure it…because I loved Draco. And he was there with me, right then, when I needed him. He could've turned and run away as soon as he knew what was happening, but he hadn't. He'd stayed. He'd stayed to hold my hand while I suffered—while we both suffered. I didn't know what was happening, and I couldn't ask him.

But I knew that if I ever got out of it, I was going to ask him to marry me.

Hermione Granger Malfoy. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.

Hermione Malfoy.

Hmm.

With a little sigh, I smiled. And when my knees gave away, and I knew I was falling, nothing made me happier than to know that I was, at least, falling with him.

**End Chapter**

Like it? Short and bittersweet.

This is NOT THE END!!! It may seem like it, but it's not over just yet.

_Review_ and I'll make sure you read the ending before Christmas!


	12. Do You Remember?

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The books, movies, and all memorabilia belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. No infringement intended._

**Au/N: Hey all you lovely people! I have to say, it seems like I just put up the first chapter of this story yesterday. But I'm not gonna bore you with the mushy memories! What I really wanna say is, thanks for all your reviews; they've supported me and given me ideas and made my day! This will be my last chapter, and I'm not planning a sequel. Some people wanted the last chapter to be the end, but I don't like to end my stories on a sad note. However, I have no problem if those people would like to skip this chapter at all. That's your choice, and I have to say, I'm just happy you read at all. **

**Once again, thank you, and don't forget to review!**

**_Chapter Twelve. Do You Remember?_**

Hermione Granger

"Hermione?"

I kept my eyes squeezed shut, trying to ignore the painfully loud voice.

"Wake up, Hermione!" said another, louder voice. I groaned and blinked as a bright light invaded my eyes. I brought a hand up to shield myself from the warm, comfortable light shining on me. I peeped through one eye to see two silhouettes standing over me, and I thought I saw halos above their blurry shapes.

"She's coming out of it!" said the first voice again, excited.

"I told you she'd be okay, Ron. No sense in freaking out, I said, but _nooo_. You can't just take _my_ word for it, can y--"

"Would you two just _shut up_?" I said, my voice sounding foreign and scratchy.

"Yep. She's good. Same old Hermione!" said the voice I finally recognized as Ron. I imagined Harry rolling his eyes as I heard him sigh.

"Let's help her up, then."

I felt two pairs of strong arms latch onto me and gently pull me up to my feet. I opened my eyes widely as I realized I was in the kitchen of my house. Standing right in front of the sink, feathers all around me on the floor.

"What…happened?" I asked groggily, rubbing my eyes as I leaned on Harry, and Ron held me steady with one hand.

"Hedwig flew in and knocked you down. You hit your head on the floor, and you've been unconscious ever since. I heard you scream, found you, and helped Harry down the stairs," Ron said as though he was extremely proud of himself.

"I've been…asleep?" I asked, my eyes widening in realization. I looked down into the sink before me and saw a shattered glass. The glass I'd been filling up to take to Harry, so he could take his medication. The glass I'd dropped because Hedwig had zoomed to the window and crashed into me.

But that had been _months_ ago.

"No! No, it's not right!" I argued, snatching my arm away from Ron and propping myself against the counter. Harry and Ron stared at me, shocked.

"What do you mean? You hit your head, Hermione…you need to lie down," Harry suggested softly, already coming toward me and reaching out to take my hand.

"No!" I screeched, backing away from him awkwardly, my head pounding. "It wasn't a dream! I didn't dream it all! Because I could feel it, and smell it, and taste it! I could taste it, Harry!" I said pleadingly, willing him to believe me. I could tell by the look on his face that he did not. His countenance looked sad, hurt, broken. I shook my head, swallowed, and slapped my palms against the counter in frustration.

"Hermione, you really should lie down. You've taken such good care of me; I won't have any problem with it. Does your head hurt?" Harry asked, reaching up to my head with one hand and pressing it against my forehead.

"Stop! You have to listen to me!" I begged, shaking his hand off. He recoiled from me as though I'd burned him. I ignored the concerned looks on the faces of my two friends, sure that they would understand once I'd explained.

"Harry—you were there! You and Ron, and me, and Vol…him, and all the people we know, and…Draco! All of us! And you, me, Ron, and Draco were all living in this house together, because the Ministry brought Draco here to serve me! And at first it was terrible, but I began to trust him and like him and lo--"

"Hermione, this is rubbish. You've hit your head, and now you're talking nonsense. Malfoy never came to work for you. And since when do you call him 'Draco'?" Ron demanded insensitively. I glared at him, angry at being interrupted when I had so many important things to say.

"Since I fell in love with him!" I said, stomping my foot, blood pumping furiously through my veins. The rush of adrenaline that came with being so upset made me completely awake, and I was able to stand on my own, if somewhat unsteadily. I stopped leaning against the counter and stared at Harry and Ron, who were open-mouthed and looked at me as though I'd lost my mind.

"You can't be in love with Malfoy, 'Mione! This…you need to rest! It was just a dream, that's all it was, I promise you. Please…go upstairs and get in bed!" Harry begged; his face contorted with ultimate confusion.

"Harry's right, 'Mione! You've been here the whole time, on the floor. It was just a dream, that's all!" Ron offered, coming closer to me, holding out his hands in a pleading gesture.

My mouth dropped open as a silence took hold of us. They didn't believe me. My own best friends didn't believe me! I knew it wasn't a dream! I'd felt it! I felt fear, pain, desire, and I had a conscience. And I felt the warmth of Draco's body, and I'd smelled the fragrance of his sweat as he'd fought to protect me from the Death Eaters. And I'd felt his lips when he'd pressed them to my neck.

It was real. It had to be.

Otherwise, I was in love with a dream. And with all the things I'd dealt with and all the decisions I'd made, I could _not_ find out that my love was a lie. It would _kill_ me.

Suddenly, I saw a look of understanding pass between Harry and Ron. A second later, long before my instincts even told me to run, both of them had each grabbed an arm and a leg, and they were hauling me up the steps to my room.

"No!" I screamed, kicking and clawing at them until my lungs hurt. "Stop it! Stop it now! You don't know what you're doing! Put me down now!" I demanded, hysteria taking control of me as they struggled to carry me down the hall to my room.

"LET ME GO!" I screeched, my voice high-pitched and eerie-sounding. But I was desperate. They couldn't do this to me. They were my _friends_. Not my psychiatrists. And they were tearing me away from something that had happened; something that was very real, and I knew it.

"Get the door!" Harry yelled to Ron over me. Ron struggled to hold me still while managing to turn the doorknob to my bedroom and push the door open.

I thrashed even more wildly, aiming for any body part that Harry or Ron would miss, should it be torn off. I could tell Harry was in immense pain from carrying me, due to his serious injury, because he grunted and groaned as he carried me; I felt a strange sense of affection creeping into me as I realized that he was only doing what he felt was necessary to help me…but he didn't know that he was horribly, horribly wrong.

"Hermione, I didn't want to do this, but…" Harry trailed off, and I could tell he was getting something out of his pocket.

His wand.

"HARRY! YOU WOULDN'T! PLEASE!"

"You won't hold still, Hermione! I have no other choice! Petrificus total--"

I closed my eyes, expecting to feel my body go rigid any second. But instead, I heard a voice booming loudly downstairs, interrupting Harry. I felt Harry's and Ron's hands clench even tighter around me; I opened my eyes to see their faces contorted with shock.

"HERMIONE!" bellowed the familiar voice. Harry and Ron were still holding onto me, but their grip had loosened considerably. I shrugged off their hands and stood, rushing back down the hallway to find myself at the top of the steps. A man was already rushing up them, a look of determination on his pale, smooth face.

I stopped dead as I caught sight of him. He stopped as well, in the middle of the stairs, looking up at me. He was breathing heavily as though he'd run a great distance, and he stared at me, gasping for air. I realized I was too, after fighting my friends for my freedom. Draco's clothes were tattered and worn; I recognized them as the clothes that he'd worn when he'd first arrived to serve me. When he'd first come from Azkaban.

Neither of us spoke a word. I heard the soft, cautious footsteps of Harry and Ron approach from behind me. The footsteps stopped then, and I knew they were as awestruck as I was.

Draco blinked, his mouth slightly open, taking in great gulps of air. I searched his eyes for any sign that he remembered, any sign that proved I wasn't imagining things. Although, that had very much been confirmed by his sudden appearance. Maybe he did remember…maybe he knew…maybe…it would all be okay.

He came up on another step, and I descended one, making us level with each other, since I was on the step directly above him. He only stared at me, breathing raggedly, licking his lips. I bit my lip and looked into his eyes, wondering if he'd tell me he'd come to tell me he remembered…or that he'd had a horrible dream about me, just before he pulled out his wand and killed me.

Suddenly, a ton of questions popped into my mind, and even before I could stop myself, they were spilling from my lips.

"How did you find me? Did you run all the way here? Are you okay? Do you remember?"

He only stared at me for a moment before, slowly, a small smile turned up the corners of his perfect mouth.

"Yes, Hermione. I remember. I remember everything." His smile widened quickly, and I felt warm arms wrap around my waist. I heard Harry and Ron gasp in shock behind me, but honestly, I couldn't have cared less. Draco was there, wrapping his arms around me, proving I hadn't been dreaming.

"Can I?" he asked softly. It wasn't hard for me to figure out what he'd meant.

"Please do," I replied just as softly, sliding my hands around his neck and letting my thumbs rest on his jaw. He smiled and began to approach me, but then he pulled away, an inquisitive look on his face.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" I asked, somewhat disappointed.

"Was your dream the same as mine?"

My eyes flashed as I stared at him.

"It wasn't a dream. It was real. And you're going to kiss me now, or I'm going to hex you!" I demanded, my voice sounding strangely light and happy.

"Yes, Master," he said, smiling again.

He pressed his lips to mine then, and all the world melted away. Whether we were standing in a field in the middle of nowhere, lying on a quilt-covered bed, or cleaning up cheese fondue, I didn't know. All I knew was, Draco Malfoy was kissing me, Harry and Ron were freaking out behind me, and I definitely wasn't dreaming.

His lips moved against mine with a passion equal to nothing I'd known before. I lost myself in kissing him, not caring that Ron and Harry were still watching.

Later, he would explain why he'd been out of breath; Raculia Minicent had informed him that he was going to be my slave until my dying day, and he hadn't even argued. As soon as they'd stepped outside Azkaban, in fact, he'd run all the way to my home, Minicent following breathlessly at his heels. When he'd arrived at his destination, Minicent had allowed him inside and apparated, leaving a charm on the doorway that would prevent Draco from leaving until I'd seen him.

And later, I would sit down with Harry, Ron, and Draco and explain the whole mess. Every tiny detail was laid out for them to contemplate, except the moments Draco and I shared in the little house in the field. That was ours and ours alone, and both of us knew we'd neither share it with anyone.

And Voldemort really was dead. Draco suggested playfully once that I'd had 'suppressed fear' that had caused me to have a nightmare. I shook my head, slapped him gently on the arm, and smiled, knowing he didn't really believe it.

It was fate; that was all there was to it.

But whether it was fate, fear, or a combination of the two, I didn't care. I was just happy to have Draco at all.

And I was especially glad to have known what it felt like to own a Malfoy.

**The End.**

Thank you guys for reading! I hope you liked it! Review and I'll give you 390847203984 cookies!


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